


Rowan

by squirenonny



Series: Voltron: Duality [17]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Character Study, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, If you haven't read Duality this isn't gonna make sense, Part of the Dualityverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-05-21 04:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14908130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squirenonny/pseuds/squirenonny
Summary: There was a lot about Rowan's life that he didn't understand. He'd read some stuff, back when they still lived on New Altea, so he knew that their condition wasn't completely unheard of. There were others like them out there, and some of them managed to work things out between all their headmates. Rowan knew some terms, and he had a pretty good idea why he existed in the first place, but when it came right down to it, he was still a little lost, trying to piece together answers when he wasn't even seeing the full picture.(A series of character studies.)





	1. Rescue

**Author's Note:**

> Full disclosure: This fic is a bit of a retcon for the second half of Someplace Like Home. I did not originally conceive of Wyn as having DID, but as I've learned more about the condition I've realized that I'd already given him a number of symptoms (some apparent only in backstory or future plans that you readers hadn't yet seen.) I felt that it would be a disservice to Wyn's character to continue to muddle through the gray area of almost-but-not quite and decided instead to go back through what I've already written with a clearer intent.
> 
> The friends who first inspired me to learn more about DID have looked over my character notes and what I've written of this story so far to check for glaring innacuracies, and I've striven to bring as much authenticity and empathy to these characters as I can, since I know that most representations of DID in media are wildly inaccurate and harmful. That being said, any missteps I may make are mine alone. Please don't be afraid to reach out if I've made a mistake.
> 
> The changes I've made to SLH are minor and mostly contained to Wyn's POV scenes in chapter 29. Mostly what retconning needed to be done is contained here: in the missing scenes and the scenes retold from Wyn's or Rowan's perspective that paint a more accurate picture of their story. There will be approximately 4 chapters to this story, most set during SLH and one during SoS. You can consider them more character studies than ordinary stories; context for Wyn and Rowan's ongoing story in the main fics.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during chapters 17-18 of Someplace Like Home.
> 
> Trigger warnings for this chapter: implied abuse and imprisonment (not shown on screen), panic attacks, dissociation and derealization.

"I'll be back soon."

That was what Lance had told him, just before shutting him in a closet and walking away.

Soon.

Rowan repeated the word in his head, trying to fill the silence. The others had all been quiet for the last... last... Rowan wasn't sure how long he'd been here. He'd lost a lot of time himself since Leth first made themself known. They were the only one besides Rowan who was active anymore, and of course they were the only one he couldn't talk to.

It was lonely in this place, especially for someone who'd never really been alone before. If Wyn wasn't there, then Eran was--except now Eran had taken Talm and retreated somewhere Haggar couldn't touch them, somewhere _no one_ could touch them, even Rowan. And Wyn was...

Wyn was just gone. Probably not forever, but Rowan couldn't be sure.

It hadn't been like this at first. Eran was more active for a while when they were first brought here. He'd made a few escape attempts and had even punched one of the guards. It all ended the same way: pain, punishment, more lost time.

It would be the same this time, wouldn't it? Lance wasn't going to come back, and then Haggar would find him, and then--

Rowan leaned forward, putting his head between his knees as everything around him went weird. This body never fit him quite right--it was too small, too young, too frail--but it was familiar, so he knew things had gone wrong whenever he started to become pressingly aware that it didn't belong to him. It responded sluggishly, even, and he dug his nails into his palms to try to ground himself, rasping breaths echoing in his ears... Oh.

Oh, he was panicking.

...

Rowan came back to himself with a start, a headache taking root behind his eyes, and bit down on his lip until the pain chased all other thoughts away. How long had he been sitting here? How long had Lance been gone?

_Leth._

Rowan's face burned with shame as he realized what had just happened. He'd been panicking, and Leth had--Leth had tried to switch with him. To give him a break.

Not that Leth knew that, or meant to do it. They couldn't control the switches, didn't even know they were happening. They were just a terrified kid trying to survive. That was what Eran said, anyway. Eran hadn't actually talked to Leth, either--none of them had--but he could check in on them, sometimes, when things weren't at their worst, and that was more than Rowan had ever managed.

And that was the worst part. Not knowing. Not seeing. Not _letting_ himself see. Rowan knew everyone who shared this body. Knew what they looked like, what they sounded like, what they wanted, why they came to the forefront or retreated to the inside. Rowan wasn't good for a lot, but he was good at watching. At listening. He was good at taking care of his headmates.

Except Leth.

Guilt coiled in Rowan's stomach, and he shrank back into the corner of the closet, pulling his knees in close to his chest. He closed his eyes, reaching out with his mind to try to find Leth. It wasn't--that wasn't how it worked, and he knew it. Maybe for other people, but not for them. It wasn't about reasoning his way to an answer or wishing for one of the others to show up. Especially not with Leth. Rowan wasn't aware of them the way he was aware of the others. Leth seemed to exist only in the negatives. In the time Rowan couldn't track, in the smooth places his memories skimmed over. He'd noticed they were there, so he knew there was a new person lurking around, and he'd figured out some of the details, but...

But Leth wasn't ready to face the rest of them. Rowan wondered if this was how Eran felt when Wyn glossed over his presence. If so, Rowan felt twice as bad. As it turned out, it really sucked to want to protect someone, only to have them shove you away every chance they got.

The door slid soundlessly open, spilling sickly light into the closet, and Rowan froze, heart pounding. He felt Eran stirring, for the first time in a long time, and tried to start breathing again. They couldn't do this. Not now. It never worked, and Rowan didn't want Leth to have more unexplainable aches the next time they woke up. Things were tough enough on the kid as it was.

The figure in the doorway shifted, the light changing just enough to break Rowan's thoughts out of their panicked loop. It wasn't a guard staring down at him. It wasn't a druid. It wasn't Haggar.

It was Lance.

Relief crashed down on him with so much force it drove him momentarily into the floor, and he pressed his hand to the ground to steady himself. With the next breath, he surged to his feet and threw himself at Lance, clinging to his armor as they both stumbled.

_You came back._

The words gathered in his throat and died there, turning sour in a mouth that hadn't spoken in poebs. He wanted to thank Lance. Wanted to know that everything was going to be okay. Wanted to tell him he should have just gone. Rowan would have been fine. He could take what Haggar threw at him. He was good at surviving. Lance didn't need to risk himself just for him.

(Except it wasn't just Rowan, was it? Because he couldn't take everything Haggar dished out. That was the whole point. Leth took the things Rowan couldn't, and he would keep taking them, and there was nothing Rowan could do to stop it.)

"Woah! It's okay, buddy." Lance grabbed Rowan by the shoulders, holding him steady, and Rowan thought he would burst with gratitude. He wanted to beg Lance to take them out of here, for Leth's sake if nothing else, but it was all too big to put into words, so he just held on, shaking, as Lance went on. "I'm right here. I'm right here."

Rowan gulped in air, trying to calm down. He was better than this. He _should_ be better than this. He wasn't the type to panic, or to cling to someone like they were the only thing keeping him afloat. It was almost enough to make him think Wyn had finally come back, but he knew before he had time to get his hopes up that that wasn't the case. This whole ordeal had just finally showed Rowan what his limits were, and he found himself suddenly, desperately wishing he could just go home.

He wished he had a home to go back to.

After a moment, though, the burst of emotion calmed, and Rowan pulled back, feeling a little more himself as he looked up at Lance.

"You ready to get out of here?"

And by the ancients, he was.

* * *

There was a lot about Rowan's life that he didn't understand. He'd read some stuff, back when they still lived on New Altea, so he knew that their condition wasn't completely unheard of. There were others like them out there, and some of them managed to work things out between all their headmates. Rowan knew some terms, and he had a pretty good idea why he existed in the first place, but when it came right down to it, he was still a little lost, trying to piece together answers when he wasn't even seeing the full picture. It wasn't like he could talk to anyone about it, except his headmates, and they didn't know any more than Rowan did.

Wyn knew less than most. He knew about Rowan, and Rowan suspected he knew what that meant. Or at least he'd considered the possibility. But thinking too hard about Rowan and about the times when someone else took over, when Wyn blacked out--that made him uncomfortable. Rowan tried to ease him into thinking about it. Into allowing for the possibility that it was more than just Wyn and Rowan stuck inside the same body.

Those attempt hadn't gone very far. The problem was that Rowan wasn't very good at standing up for himself, even to his kid brother, and his efforts to talk about it fizzled as soon as Wyn flinched away. Eran would have been better at this--but then, if Eran had the option of talking to Wyn about it, about anything, then there wouldn't be an issue.

The point was, Rowan was sort of the resident authority by virtue of being the only one who really had any clue what was going on, and he would have laughed at that if he hadn't felt so much like being sick.

Lance was gone.

He'd given Rowan his armor and shot him out an airlock, and there had been a long stretch where Rowan was pretty sure Leth had taken over, because being out in space felt too much like...

Like something. It was familiar in a way that tied Rowan's insides up in knots, and he wasn't sure, ultimately, if he'd blacked out because of Leth or because he stopped breathing for too long. He wasn't sure it mattered either way. It still ended with him waking up on the floor of an unfamiliar ship. The ship seemed to be flying itself--Rowan wasn't sure where--and Lance was nowhere to be seen. Of course he wasn't. He was back on Haggar's ship, alone and without his armor, because he'd wanted so badly to get Rowan out.

The knowledge sat heavy in Rowan's chest, but his panic seemed to have decided to respect his exhaustion for the time being, because it barely stirred as he sat up and picked his way to the front of the cockpit. He hesitated a moment before sitting in the lone chair, but there was no one around to complain, and if something happened, he might be able to fly himself out of there, assuming he figured out how to turn off the autopilot. Wyn had had flying lessons from his parents, and Rowan had sat in on some of them. He could probably figure it out.

Then again, maybe he didn't need to. There were ships all around, some of them Galra, most of them not, but none of them paid Rowan's ship any mind. He tensed each time another ship came close, but after a few repetitions he started to relax, though he stayed curled up in the pilot's seat, eyes roving the battlefield for signs of his destination. (That's what it was, after all, wasn't it? A battlefield?)

He finally found it: a sleek white ship. A New Altean ship, he was almost sure of it. Rowan's chest tightened, and he curled in on himself. Why was New Altea here? They didn't do rescue missions. That was the point of leaving. Wyn's parents had wanted to cut contact. If they were here now--

Rowan's shoulders shook with silent laughter. If New Altea was here now, so what? It was better than Haggar. Anything was better than Haggar. At best, Jana was on that ship, and Rowan would have a friend around again. Wyn's friend, at least, and maybe that would be enough to pull Wyn back from wherever he'd gone.

At worst, Rowan would be back where he'd been before all this began.

There were worse things out there.

The ship set down inside a massive hangar, engines roaring in a way that seemed almost animalistic, and Rowan pushed himself up to look out through the viewscreen for familiar faces. He saw no one. Not even any maintenance bots or other ships. This ship was bigger than he'd realized--and he still wasn't sure how he'd wound up inside it, unless Leth had...

But Leth wasn't here now, and Rowan didn't see how they could've programmed the autopilot to come to a strange ship and land--and put up a shield, he realized, jumping as a shimmering blue barrier closed in outside the ship. Had Lance programmed the ship to do all that? Or was someone controlling it remotely?

Rowan peered around the hangar for another long while, trying to work up the courage to go out there and figure out what was happening, but the thought alone made him queasy. He'd be so exposed out there, and he still didn't know who had saved him. Or captured him. But... Lance wouldn't let that happen, would he? He'd seemed like he had a plan. Rowan should trust him. (Right. Trust. Rowan never had been good at that.)

After a moment, Rowan settled in, looping his arms around his legs and staring at the cockpit around him, rather than out at the empty hangar. He still glanced out occasionally, just in case someone decided to show up, but all that open space made him nervous.

He lost track of himself again, and lost track of time, and he only jolted out of his daze when the ship began to move again. He sucked in a breath, reaching for the controls. Where was the autopilot? There had to be a way to turn it off.

The hangar fell away around him--or, no. It was lifting up? Or was the cockpit lowering to the ground? He didn't know, but it made his head spin, and he scrambled to his feet as the blue barrier flickered out of existence. A hatch hissed open somewhere at the same moment, changing the light in the cockpit, and Rowan backpedaled, searching for somewhere to hide, or something to use as a weapon, if it came to that. He wasn't much of a fighter, but if Haggar had found him--Haggar, or someone else--

"Buddy? You in there?"

Lance's voice pulled Rowan up short, and for a moment he froze, wondering if Haggar could mimic voices with her illusions. Had he ever seen her do that? He remembered seeing people he knew, but they'd never spoken. He didn't think they'd spoken...

Before he could figure anything out, Lance was there, unsteady on his feet, flecks of blood on his skin and a tremor in his hand as he reached out for Rowan. His Quintessence was thin, so thin Rowan could barely feel it. (Haggar. She'd found him after all.) Rowan felt impossibly small in that moment, small and horribly cold as his fingers dug into the ridges of Lance's armor--armor that could have protected Lance if Rowan hadn't taken it from him.

Lance dropped to his knee in front of Rowan, lips quirking into a smile. "It's okay, buddy," he whispered. "You're okay. We got you out of there. You're safe now. How are you feeling?"

Horrible. Sick. Tired. Like he just wanted someone to take over so he could ignore the universe for a while. It wasn't fair that Wyn got to miss all of this and leave Rowan and Leth to deal with it.

Rowan regretted that as soon as he thought it, and he curled in on himself, chest aching. He opened his mouth to answer Lance's question, only to run up against a wall. Even if he'd known what to say, he didn't think he could have forced the words out. There was a pressure on his chest, trapping his voice inside him, and Rowan was at a loss for how to shrug it off.

"Lance!" The voice that echoed in from beyond the ramp was sharp, angry, and it made Rowan flinch away. "We need to talk."

Lance's lips pressed together in a thin line, and he shot a look toward the ramp. "Can this wait a second?"

A moment of silence. Rowan curled his arms over his head, heart hammering in his chest. He didn't know who was outside or why she was angry, but it made his chest tight all over again. He couldn't get enough air, and he felt himself drifting again as Lance rested his hand on Rowan's foot for an instant, then turned and disappeared down the ramp. His voice, and the angry one, drifted up to Rowan, but he was too far away to hear them, everything feeling loose and disconnected like this was all a dream and Rowan had only just realized it.

Maybe it was a dream. It didn't seem possible that he'd actually escaped from Haggar. She was too smart for that, too ruthless. Rowan was going to be stuck in his cell until he died--seriously, the paladins of Voltron? They were a myth. Ancient history. If anyone was going to come save Rowan, why would it be them?

He dropped his head between his knees, clutching at hair that was short and thin and brittle--they'd shaved it again sometime recently, though Rowan couldn't remember when. A lot of things were like that in Haggar's cells. He noticed something had changed, but he couldn't figure out when it had happened.

Tracing patterns in his hair helped to ground him, though, and bit by bit he settled back into himself. What choice did he have? There was no one else to take over right now. No one but maybe Leth, but Rowan could never be sure with them. Better to just... keep it together... somehow... At least until he knew he really was safe. Lance had said he was, but what if he was lying? Or just wrong? People were wrong all the time. Wyn's parents had said they were safe after they left New Altea, and that couldn't be further from the truth.

Rowan kept breathing, and slowly he started to feel less sick. It still didn't seem possible, being rescued like this, but it didn't feel like a dream, either. He forced himself to stand, even though it made his headache worse, and once the cockpit stopped spinning he stumbled toward the ramp, where he could still hear Lance's voice, pitched low and dangerous now. (It didn't feel like a threat, though. At least, not one that was directed at Rowan.)

"--hiding in Blue right now because he probably thinks we're gonna run more sick experiments on him!"

Rowan's breath caught, and rather than tapping Lance's shoulder like he'd meant to, he instead latched onto the hand that Lance flung out in an encompassing gesture. Rowan's pulse was racing again, and he couldn't do anything but hold onto Lance as he spun, dropping into a crouch. Rowan could see other people beyond Lance, most of them dressed in paladin armor like Lance's but in all different colors.

Voltron.

Was it real, after all? Or was Rowan...

"You okay, buddy?" Lance asked, drawing Rowan's focus back to him. He stared, trying to force himself to breathe as Lance went on in a gentle voice. "Look, don't worry about anything. I'm gonna take care of you, all right?" He paused as though hoping Rowan would say something, but then he just smiled and squeezed Rowan's hand. "All right." Lance looked behind him. "He's going to need a cryopod."

A moment of silence, and then Lance turned back to Rowan.

"Don't worry," he whispered. "Everyone here's a friend. We're gonna take care of you, okay? You're going to be okay."


	2. Resolve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during chapter 20 of Someplace Like Home. No particular trigger warnings for this chapter.

****Wyn was back by the time Rowan woke up from the cryo cycle, and the wave of relief cut Rowan's legs out from under him as much as the usual post-cryosleep weakness.

He hit the ground, head spinning, but that was a distant worry, because Wyn was there--quiet, fuzzy, confused, but _there_ , and that was more than he'd been for a long time. A _long_ time.

_Wyn?_

Wyn gave a start as he noticed Rowan there, and for a moment they froze as Rowan automatically stepped back, letting Wyn have control. Wyn balked, and the body stalled out in the middle of pushing itself up off the floor. Rowan's heart contracted as he reached out for Wyn, silently checking him over for--well, he wasn't sure what he was looking for. He wasn't injured, he'd just been gone. (But he was back now. That meant they were okay, right?)

It took a moment to realize someone was in the room with them, and Rowan flipped through several worst case scenarios before he recognized the Altean who had helped him out before. Coran--hadn't Lance called him that? A few more silent ticks passed as Rowan waited for Wyn to take control, but once it became obvious that wasn't going to happen, Rowan gathered himself. He felt shaky--not necessarily in a bad way, not with Wyn looking over his shoulder as Coran helped him to his feet. Rowan could feel Wyn wanting to lean into Coran's touch, almost as though he knew how long it had been since they'd had someone hold them like this. No malice behind the touch, no urgency keeping everything brief. Just an arm around his shoulders and a warm chest for him to lean into.

Rowan had never been especially keen on physical contact, but he leaned into Coran now, letting Wyn have this moment of warmth. (He'd have given Wyn just about anything right then, and a hug, even by proxy, wasn't asking much at all.)

"How are you feeling, then?" Coran asked.

Once more, Rowan ran up against that wall, and he closed his mouth, wondering how many of Coran's questions he'd be able to answer with gestures or facial expressions.

He'd forgotten that Wyn knew him better than anyone, so of course he knew what it meant when Rowan went nonverbal. Wyn's anxiety bled over into Rowan, tight and twisting. _Rowan?_ he asked. _Are you okay? What happened? Where...?_

Wyn started probing, reaching for things Rowan knew would only upset him, or worse, make him disappear again, and Rowan cursed himself. He was supposed to look out for Wyn, not make him worry.

"Fine," Rowan said, forcing the word out past a tongue that sat heavy in his mouth. "Better."

Wyn quieted at once--still uneasy at the implication that Rowan _hadn't_ been fine before now. But, well, they were in a medical bay, standing right outside a cryopod. The kid would have put it together eventually.

_Did we get hurt?_

Rowan was so busy trying to figure out how to answer Wyn that he missed whatever Coran said next, but he was gesturing toward the door that, if Rowan remembered right, led to the med bay where Lance had sat with him while Coran and the yellow paladin ran scans. Rowan nodded, a little hesitant, and let Coran steer him through the door.

It was in fact the med bay, and Wyn became a little more alert as Coran sat beside Rowan on the edge of an exam table, their legs dangling. Rowan had seen all this before--he'd automatically checked for anything like the half-remembered machines he'd encountered in Haggar's labs--but he let his eyes wander again as Wyn took in the space.

 _New Altea?_ Wyn asked.

_Not quite._

"What's your name?"

Rowan resisted talking again, but this was something familiar, a knee-jerk reaction developed over a lifetime or pretending not to exist. "Othwyn," he said, and he almost smiled as Wyn squawked in protest--just like always, just like they were back on the _Skoran_ with Wyn's parents, stopped off at some trade world and making friends who would only last for a day. "But everyone just calls me Wyn."

And, well, that wasn't actually a lie.

"Wyn." Coran smiled, and Rowan let himself smile, too, as Wyn's chest swelled with warmth. "I am Coran."

He put his hand to his chest, and Rowan stared at it for a long while, trying to figure out what the gesture was supposed to mean.

 _Ro,_ Wyn said, swallowing a laugh. _He's saying hi._

Oh. Right. Rowan's cheeks flushed as he sat up straighter and brought his hands together, palms up, over his stomach. Wyn made a noise as Coran mimicked the gesture. Okay, so it was a little formal, as greetings went. (Downright stuffy, Wyn would say.) But Coran seemed like he was someone important here on... whatever this ship was called. The suit he wore looked a little bit military, and Lance--a paladin of Voltron--had deferred to him when they were looking Rowan over. A little formality wasn't misplaced.

 _You'd say the same thing if you were introducing us to a hrimfling,_ Wyn said with an infectious laugh. Rowan managed to keep it to a smile--but it was a genuine smile, one of the first times he'd done that since they were captured. By the _ancients_ , he'd missed Wyn.

* * *

Wyn returned to his usual self piece by piece as Coran answered Rowan's questions, and that alone was worth forcing himself to speak. More than that--the scuffle outside the med bay, which had Coran bustling over to block the doorway and had Rowan's heart rate skyrocketing as his mind conjured druids and sentries and other, shapeless horrors--

Well, for once, Wyn seemed not to notice Rowan's anxiety. He perked up at the soft voices from outside. Young voices, at that. Were there other kids on the Castle of Lions? Wyn nudged Rowan to sit up straighter so they could strain for a view of the visitors, but Coran shooed them away and closed the door too quickly to glimpse more than a flash of purple.

A few moments after Coran left to check on an alert from the cryopod room, the med bay door started to open. A voice from outside hissed, and the door slid shut again. Rowan pulled his feet up on the bed, closing his eyes and reminding himself that he was somewhere safe, and whoever was outside was probably friends with Lance. Wasn't that what Lance had said? Everyone here was a friend.

Didn't make it any easier to trust them.

Rowan was barely aware of himself as the door continued it's cycle of opening and closing, the voices outside rising and falling in pitch as the visitors argued with each other.

Then Wyn quietly slid into the gap left by Rowan's distraction. He faltered for a moment as Rowan registered the switch, but Rowan hastily stepped back, yielding control to Wyn. If he wanted to--If he was up for it--after _so long_ \--

 _You sure?_ Wyn asked.

Rowan nodded, gathering his own nerves close to himself so they wouldn't bleed through to Wyn, and settled in to watch. If anything went wrong, he would be right there, ready to take over, but...

He _really_ didn't want anything to go wrong.

"I know you're out there."

Wyn's voice was small, shaking as he spoke. Rowan felt his confusion as he readjusted to the body; he wouldn't know exactly how long he'd been gone, but Rowan knew they'd lost weight and gained scars, and their voice was hoarse from disuse. Wyn floundered for a moment, hugging his knees closer, and Rowan pressed in, lending strength and comfort and wishing he could offer a real hug instead of a mental substitute.

Then the door slid fully open, revealing three young Galra, and even Rowan couldn't convince himself they meant any harm. They had to be, what? Eleven, twelve decaphoebs at most? The Empire didn't use kids that young except as test subjects, and Wyn hadn't been around other kids for a long time even before Haggar.

Wyn poked him, asking a silent question, and Rowan forced himself to relax.

 _Yeah,_ he said. _Go ahead._

Wyn smiled, propping his chin on his knees. "It's okay. You can come in."

Two of the Galra remained frozen, arms tangled together. They must have been the ones fighting over the door controls. The third Galra broke away from them, sprinting over to the bed where Wyn sat. Rowan tensed automatically, making Wyn flinch back without meaning to.

"You really are Altean!" the girl cried, ears quivering.

"Uh... yes?"

 _Did I... miss something?_ Wyn asked. _I thought these people were from New Altea?_

 _They're not,_ Rowan said. _Paladins of Voltron, remember? They're their own group, I think._

_But... Coran's Altean._

"They thought it was just a rumor." One of the other Galra broke away, glaring at the third, and crossed her arms as she came forward. "Don't _smother_ him, Dagmar."

Rowan tucked away the name Dagmar as the first Galra--and the youngest, by Rowan's estimation--backed off. The last Galra jogged into the room and hopped up onto the exam table beside Wyn, sticking his hand out, fingers straight.

"I'm Maka," he said.

Wyn stared at the hand, confused.

 _Wyn,_ Rowan teased. _He's saying hi._

Wyn didn't roll his eyes, but Rowan knew he wanted to. _Okay, genius, so what's he expecting us to do?_ When Rowan didn't answer, Wyn reached out and poked Maka's hand. "What are you doing?"

Maka shrugged. "I dunno. The paladins do it all the time, though. Here, hold out your hand like I'm doing." Wyn did, and Maka grabbed it, shaking it up and down. "There. Now we're friends."

Wyn stared.

Rowan smirked. _That's a new one. Think we can actually trust these kids to understand alien customs?_

Wyn didn't answer, and Rowan's fear started to creep back in. This hadn't happened in a long time--Wyn freezing like this. He'd gotten better, and anyway, Rowan hadn't noticed anything that should have triggered this. Still, he gathered himself, trying to ignore the bone-deep weariness that had flooded in after Wyn took control. He wanted to go back to the _Skoran_ and sleep for a week, but if Wyn needed him to take over, that's what he would do.

But Wyn wasn't frozen. Not in the usual sense. He was just surprised, and after a moment, Rowan realized why.

Friends.

It had been a while since they'd had one of those, even if Wyn didn't fully appreciate just how long it had been--and Rowan doubted he did, considering how he was staring, drifting away from Rowan even as he stayed ostensibly in control. Still, he must have felt the weight of Maka's simple statement.

Heart heavy, Rowan hovered close, prodding Wyn until he started breathing again, slowly grounding himself as the last Galra came forward, grabbing Maka by the shoulders and pushing him aside.

"Sorry. I'm Edita. That's Dagmar." Edita worried her lip, looking uncertain for a moment. "What's your name?"

Wyn looked up at her, and Rowan prodded him one last time. _You okay?_

 _Yeah._ Wyn smiled. _Thanks, Rowan._ To Edita, he said, "Wyn. My name's Wyn."

* * *

"So what are you doing _here_?" Dagmar asked, leaning her crossed arms on Wyn's knees. “If you're supposed to be in hiding, why aren't you...well...hidden?"

Rowan had begun to drowse sometime after Coran returned to find Wyn chatting with the Galra kids, but he refocused on the conversation with a snap at the question, trepidation drumming in his chest--and it wasn't just him. Wyn was nervous, too, going quiet as Dagmar looked up at him with innocent curiosity. Rowan wanted to groan. Why had she had to ask him that? Things had been going so well. Wyn was doing good, for once, and now--

"I got captured," Wyn said, and Rowan's spiraling thoughts froze in place, his entire being hanging on Wyn's next words. "I got captured, and they sent me to the Arena, but the Champion saved me."

 _Wyn..._ Rowan's heart ached. He hadn't realized that Wyn remembered any of that. He'd still been around, kind of, but Rowan and Eran had mostly taken over after the attack.

 _I don't really,_ Wyn admitted. _Just bits and pieces. Like..._

Like he was pulling them from Rowan's head. That happened sometimes, but Rowan had been hoping it wouldn't in this case. Wyn didn't need those memories floating around in his head.

Wyn started to say something, but Edi's voice interrupted.

"Champion?" she asked. "Isn't that what Shiro used to be called?"

An electric jolt ran through Rowan, strong enough that Wyn sat upright, eyes fixed on Edi. Shiro. The name echoed in Rowan's ears, over and over. The way she said it, so familiar, said this was someone Edi knew personally, not just a story she'd been told. Rowan had never found out what happened to the Champion after he'd saved them. He'd kind of assumed the man was dead. That seemed to be the whole purpose of the Arena, and he knew better than to expect any kind of mercy from the Empire.

But if he'd escaped-- If he was here--

"You know him?" Wyn asked, voice shaking. "He's here?"

"No. He's not here." Coran sighed, looking away from them. "He's in danger right now--but we're going to get him back."

Rowan wanted to be sick. He remembered how upset the other paladins had been after Lance had rescued him, how tired and scared they'd all looked, the way Princess Allura had yelled. He hadn't... It had been hard to follow what was happening, the way he kept fading in and out, but something had obviously happened. Rowan wondered if that had something to do with Shiro.

He wondered if Shiro was in danger because he'd protected Rowan again.

"I want to help."

Rowan stopped breathing, his head spinning as Wyn spoke the words. Coran looked nearly as startled, which only made Wyn squirm as he was hit with disbelief from both sides.

 _Help? Wyn..._ Rowan hesitated, loathe to probe too deeply into things that might upset his brother, but the curiosity was too much. _How much do you remember?_

 _Not much,_ Wyn said. _Bits and pieces. But he matters to you. That's enough for me._

Rowan was silent for a moment, fighting back a sudden prickle of tears. He thought he'd had a better handle on that, but it was true. Shiro was the only person who'd tried to stand up for Rowan at all since he'd been captured. True, he'd been kept separate from the other prisoners for the most part, but even when he saw them, they'd all just kept their heads down, not wanting to make things worse for themselves by getting involved in someone else's problems.

 _You don't need to do that, Wyn,_ he said. _I mean, you remember how strong he was? He was the Champion. That means no one could beat him. If he's in danger... what are we supposed to do about that?_

But Wyn was adamant. He stared at Coran, chin jutting out in defiance, and Rowan felt that same defiance directed his way.

"Well," Coran said at last, his voice strained. "We could always use more help on the bridge. I could show you around...?"

Wyn opened his mouth, and Rowan knew he was going to argue. Probably say he wanted to be out looking, or fighting, or whatever else the other paladins were doing. Rowan pushed back, halting Wyn’s protests.

_Wyn, stop. We're in no condition to go charging off on rescue missions, even if we knew how to defend ourselves._

Wyn fought him for a moment, then relented, deflating a little as he nodded. Rowan settled back, watching for signs that Wyn was planning... something. He wouldn’t put it past the kid to go charging off behind everyone’s back because he felt like he owed it to the guy who had saved them.

But Coran was equally watchful, and he knew this place better than either Wyn or Rowan. Even if Wyn decided to do something stupid, Coran would make sure he couldn’t get too far, right? Rowan hoped so, because the stress that had been piling up on him was starting to become too much to bear. He fought it for a while, trying to stay conscious to make sure Wyn was going to be okay, but it was a losing battle. He was out before they even left the med bay.


	3. Retreat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am. So sorry this took so long. I have no excuse besides... I legit thought I'd already posted the last two chapters? Oops. Anyway, here you go!
> 
> Set during chapters 22 and 24 of Someplace Like Home.
> 
> Trigger warnings for this chapter: Dissociation and panic attacks through the first two scenes.

"Are we going to die?"

The words felt like they'd come from someone else, and Wyn tightened his grip on the drone controls, his eyes struggling to focus. Rowan had gone quiet some time ago, somewhere around when they’d found out that Shiro and Allura were attacking Arus. Wyn had done his best to hold it together since then, but with the battle intensifying outside and the paladins' voices on the comms reporting on how bad the fight on the ground was going, it was getting harder and harder not to panic.

And he was scared.

"No," Coran said. "We're not going to die, Wyn."

That was a lie, though, and everyone on the bridge knew it. Coran couldn't stop Haggar. All of them together couldn’t stop Haggar. She took what she wanted when she wanted it, and the only time Wyn had ever taken it away from her...

He shivered, the world sliding past him as his pulse quickened. Haggar... He'd never seen Haggar face-to-face... had he? Maybe these were Rowan's memories. Wyn knew they'd been captured, and he knew Haggar had done something. It made sense that Rowan would know more about that than Wyn; Rowan knew more than Wyn about a lot of things.

"It's my fault."

"What?" Coran sounded breathless, his voice reaching Wyn from far away. Even the chair beneath him didn't feel real, like Wyn was floating above it, the flash of lasers and the muted thunder of explosions fading into white noise. "Don't be ridiculous, Wyn, this is--"

"She wants me back."

Wyn didn't know where the words came from, but as soon as he spoke them, he knew it to be true. Whatever Haggar had done to him, whatever she'd tried to make him, she wanted it back. He was her weapon, and there was no way she'd let him go so easily. All of this--losing Shiro and Allura, attacking this planet--it was all about getting him back, wasn't it?

_I have to stop it._

Coran was talking again, and the whole world shook with another explosion, but Wyn couldn't take in any more than the broad strokes of what was happening around him. Something stirred in his Quintessence. He shied away from it, and from the hands that reached out for him.

What was this?

It was like a shadow had been cast on his Quintessence, dimming its light, or just changing the hue. Like oil dancing on the surface of a lake, like heat shimmering in the air over hot pavement. It made him feel queasy, though he didn't think it was a bad thing, on its own. It just came from something bad.

(He knew where it came from. He knew exactly where it came from. He just didn't want to admit it.)

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

He didn't know what he was apologizing for, but he felt like he needed to say it. His head was pounding, throbbing, and the hands squeezing it between them couldn't be his own.

The next explosion startled a scream out of him, and he reached for the oil slick in his Quintessence. He moved on instinct, hardly in control of his own body, and gathered the Quintessence in his chest before flinging it outward, his mind scattering with it. He drifted across a frozen battlefield, shying away from his own awareness of every drone, sentry, and ship in view.

 _This is what she made you into,_ he thought. _This is what you are._

Wyn blacked out as the destruction began.

* * *

Wyn was in a state when Rowan finally clawed his way back to the outside.

He wasn't gone like before, thank the ancients, but he let go the second he noticed Rowan, yielding control and fading to hardly a whisper in the back of Rowan's mind.

 _Quiznak,_ Rowan thought. What had happened while he was out of it? Leth--Leth must have pushed him out, and that was his own fault. All the talk of Haggar and what she'd done to Shiro had made Rowan panic, and in trying not to let it bleed over to Wyn, he'd completely missed the signs of Leth stirring.

_Wyn? Are you okay? What happened?_

There was no answer, and Rowan's unease only grew as he took stock of the situation. He was in Wyn's room, the lights low. All was silent, and Rowan scrambled around for some indication of how long it had been. The clock on the bedside table indicated midmorning, but did that mean he'd been out of it for a couple hours, or a couple days? What had happened with the battle? Were Shiro and Allura safe? Had any of the others been hurt?

He recognized the beginnings of a panic attack and cursed, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and bending over, trying to force himself to breathe. How many panic attacks was that since he'd been rescued? He'd lost count, and he hated it. Hated that he could recognize them now, but even that only made him panic about the panic instead of whatever had set him off in the first place. He was supposed to be the strong one, the one who could deal with life's shit. He wasn't supposed to fall apart like this.

He sat there for... he didn't know how long. It didn't matter, anyway. Whatever had happened was already done, so what was a little more lost time?

The panic faded eventually, leaving a familiar apathy in its wake, and he dragged himself out of bed, stumbling to the bathroom as he tried to get his frazzled mind to readjust to this body. He avoided looking in the mirror--the shock of it, after months without, had messed him up for an hour last night ( _last_ night? After they'd come out of stasis, whenever that had been), and in his current mood, it was just asking for trouble. (Not that it didn't ever unnerve him, seeing his brother's face staring back at him, but some days he was better equipped to handle it than others.)

Wyn was still there, hovering just this side of out, but he wasn't responding to Rowan's silent questions. Rowan supposed that meant he'd have to figure out for himself what had happened.

He took a few minutes to freshen up and get changed--he was still wearing the simple navy blue suit he'd been wearing when the battle started, so it couldn't have been that long, right? Then he ventured out, every nerve alight at the silence of the castle-ship. It felt unnatural--not that there hadn't been moments of silence before this, but--well, the only time he hadn't been with Coran or Maka had been the walk back to his room last night, and he'd had Wyn with him then, chatting away at a half-asleep Rowan the whole way.

This was more than just silence, though. It was stillness. He couldn't sense Quintessence in any of the nearby rooms, even the ones he'd noted sleeping presences in last night and early this morning, when an alarm startled him awake.

He wandered, steps slow and light, his adrenaline up like he was back on Haggar's ship and Eran was pulling another doomed escape attempt. When he finally sensed Quintessence ahead, he jumped at once to guards and druids, and it was only the faint spike of alarm from Wyn that snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts.

He stopped, pressing one hand to the wall beside him and focusing on the smooth, warm metal. This wasn't an Imperial ship, where everything was always cold and dim and drowning in synthetic Quintessence. He was free. He was safe. And the Quintessence ahead belonged to Coran.

Rowan entered the room slowly, glancing around for threats and noting Zelka working on a panel of exposed mechanical bits a few feet from where Coran was set up. She didn't notice Rowan there at first, but Coran did, catching sight of him as he turned to grab a tool on a nearby tray. He sat back on his heels, the lines around his eyes softening.

"Wyn! How are you feeling, my boy?"

Rowan shrugged. For a moment, he searched for words to answer with--that had been getting easier, by the end of last night, at least inside his head--but his tongue felt thick again now, and he wrapped his arms around himself, turning to watch Zelka work in hopes that it would forestall any other questions.

Coran sighed, setting his tools aside. "Well, that's understandable. It's been a rough couple of days for all of us. Did you sleep well, at least?"

Rowan nodded, contemplating whether there was a way to ask what had happened without arousing suspicion. He might be able to force a sentence out for the sake of filling in the gaps, but without knowing how much Wyn knew, he wasn't sure asking questions was a good idea. The people on the castle-ship were still too much an unknown element to risk tipping them off, and neither he nor Wyn was ready to go blabbing their secret to the entire universe.

No. Definitely not worth risking it, even if he was confused and uneasy about everything. Especially because he was confused and uneasy. So rather than speak, he just shuffled his feet, waiting for Coran to go back to work. If Rowan stuck close, he might be able to piece things together eventually. He hoped. Or at least he might run across some of the paladins and figure it out that way.

Coran didn't seem upset, at least. Stressed, but not grieving. That was probably a good sign, right? He and Allura were close--they would have to be, if they really were the Lost Princess and her Guardian. (Wyn roused a little at the thought, indignant at the implication that Coran might be lying, and Rowan smiled.)

_I don't think they're lying. It’s just that the stories are old. Who knows what really happened?_

Wyn quieted, scowling at Rowan once more before fading back to a barely-there presence looking over Rowan's shoulder. Coran cocked his head to the side, studying him, then beckoned him over.

"You up for some more maintenance work?"

 _More?_ Rowan wondered, unease returning. It had only been midmorning when he’d woken up. If Wyn had helped Coran with maintenance after the battle and they'd still had time to sleep, Rowan must have lost at least a day. The thought made him feel shaky, the way it always did when he lost time. It didn’t happen often, and when it did, it was never for long. Or at least he’d never noticed that he’d lost more than a few hours at a time. Maybe he just hadn’t ever noticed the gaps before.

"All right there, my boy?" Coran asked. "You don't need to push yourself if you're not feeling up to it, you know."

Rowan forced a smile, shook his head, and inched forward. He wasn't feeling great, it was true, but he needed a distraction now, not to wallow in the feeling of reality slipping away from him. Coran scrutinized him only a moment longer, then got back to work, talking Rowan through the repairs he was making to the backup life support system, which had been damaged in the fighting. It sounded as though Hunk and Ryner had been helping with repairs before they left to catch some sleep, so that was at least two people who had made it through the fight, and "the others" were down in the rec room. Rowan would have to find an excuse to go down there later and see for himself that everyone was okay.

He soon settled into a rhythm, and the prickling anxiety about his missing time faded to the background, only rousing now and again when Coran mentioned something about the repairs, or about cryo-cycles. Allura was due out in a few hours, which almost made Rowan drop the clamp he was holding for Coran. Wyn didn't seem surprised to hear that Allura was back on the castle, the little brat. He could have said something before Rowan assumed the worst.

Wyn only smiled sheepishly, and before Rowan knew it, Wyn was back to his usual chatty self, cheerily explaining how the paladins had rescued Shiro and Allura--he was vague on the details of that because, apparently, something weird had happened on the bridge.

 _I... I don't know,_ he admitted when Rowan pressed. _Something weird happened with my Quintessence, and then... I think I did something to Haggar's ships? It gets fuzzy after that..._

Rowan's good mood faltered at that. Leth. Rowan knew Haggar had done something to them, but he hadn't known what. He _still_ didn't know what--"something." That wasn't very specific. But asking Wyn wouldn't help. It would only make him shut down again, and Wyn shutting down felt too much like Wyn disappearing. It hadn’t been long enough for Rowan to stop worrying about that happening again.

(They would have to talk about Leth sooner or later, of course, especially if them showing up became a regular thing, but for now... For now Rowan was content to let it go, and to take comfort in the fact that, for once, everything seemed to have worked out okay.)

* * *

Meeting Shiro was surreal. Just seeing him there, no longer wearing the rags of a prisoner, no longer gaunt and pale in the lights of the Arena or unnaturally still inside a cryopod--it felt like a dream, and Rowan could do nothing but stare as Shiro's team greeted him with hugs and tears that had Wyn grinning and bouncing on his toes.

It didn't help that, when Shiro finally caught sight of Wyn and Coran introduced them, Wyn decided to shove Rowan to the forefront, grinning all the while as Rowan froze, his mind sticking on an endless loop of, _oh Quiznak,_ and, _holy cosmos you’re actually real,_ while his mouth outright rebelled and refused to supply anything but an awkward smile.

Wyn took over again soon after that, thank the _ancients_ \--but he proceeded to sit them down in the narrow space between Lance and Shiro for the first hand of Castle's Flight. Ostensibly, that was so that Wyn could help teach Shiro the rules, Wyn having developed a minor obsession with the game over the course of the last few days. The truth was, Wyn just liked to see Rowan squirm, and if there was anything in the universe that could turn Rowan into a blushing mess, it was sitting next to the man who had saved him from the Arena, his actual, literal hero, and being the target of Shiro’s smile.

Rowan was glad Wyn was feeling better, even if that was only because he'd stopped thinking about Leth's interference during the battle over Arus. A happy Wyn was better than an unhappy Wyn any day. (Or, that's what Rowan thought. Eran hadn't been so sure of that when Rowan had finally found time to visit the _Skoran_ and check on everyone. But Eran was never completely happy, and Wyn willfully ignoring everyone but Rowan was one of his biggest pet peeves, so he _would_ be irked by Wyn's attitude lately, Rowan supposed.)

Well. There was no reason to stir things up today. Shiro was back, and the other paladins were finally relaxed, which meant Wyn was relaxed. There were no threats to worry about, no looming danger.

They would talk about Leth soon, but... they could take a couple of days to recover first. Not even Eran could begrudge them that.

* * *

Wyn wasn't sure when, exactly, he first heard the call.

He didn't think he _heard_ anything the first few times, actually, but he felt it. Something just on the edge of his awareness tugging at him. Not quite a voice whispering in his ear, and not quite a guiding hand on his back. It felt a little bit like Rowan looking over his shoulder, actually but... different. More vague than that, like something that kept drifting to him on the wind.

Rowan couldn't feel it.

That surprised Wyn at first, but the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. This was something personal. Something private. Something meant for Wyn and Wyn alone. He wandered the castle late one night, ears pricked for a sound that he could hear now, just faintly, but no matter how much he cocked his head and closed his eyes and focused on listening, he couldn't make it any clearer.

Rowan was tense. He always got like that at night, when everything was quiet and empty. Wyn liked the solitude, but it made Rowan nervous. He said it reminded him of bad times, but talking about it made Wyn's head spin, so he didn't ask Rowan to explain. He just wandered, humming a tune to himself as he tried to follow the mental map he'd been building in his wanderings with Maka. The castle-ship was massive, and even though Wyn had only seen a small part of it it was easy to get lost.

Like tonight, for example. Wyn had started without a destination, but he'd thought he recognized a bit of decoration on the wall and had changed course, heading for the kitchens to grab a late night snack. (His parents had always frowned on eating after dinner, but Hunk kept leftovers in one of the cabinets, and he always got so happy when he realized Wyn was eating them, like preferring actual food to goo was the universe's best birthday gift. Wyn figured the least he could do to thank the guy was eat his cookies occasionally.)

Rowan questioned that logic, but Wyn just smiled and picked up the pace, bouncing a little with each step.

Within a couple of minutes, it became obvious he wasn't where he thought he was. His steps slowed as he turned down another unfamiliar corridor, and for the first time Rowan's unease began to prick at Wyn's mind.

 _Stop it,_ Wyn said. _There's nothing even here._

_You don't know that._

Wyn rolled his eyes and kept walking, trailing his hand along the wall. He loved Rowan, and he knew that it was Rowan’s job as the older brother to keep him safe, but he was seriously paranoid sometimes. If he could hear the voice like Wyn could, he wouldn’t be so scared. It was clearer here, calling for him to keep moving, so he did, ignoring Rowan's groan.

 _I just don’t get what makes_ this _‘voice’ so special,_ Rowan said.

Wyn's steps faltered, his chest going tight at Rowan's words. Or… not at the words themselves, but at the unspoken question it implied. His mouth ran dry, and he was afraid to think too hard about--about any of it. He wasn’t ready.

_Wyn... Are we ever going to talk about what happened on Arus?_

It felt like someone had wrapped a bandage too tight around Wyn’s chest, squeezing all the air out of his lungs, and he shook his head, walking on like he could leave Rowan and his questions behind if he just moved fast enough.

_I'm just saying, Leth seems like they could really use our help, and I can't--_

Wyn stopped listening. He was all but running now, his blood rushing in his ears. He felt like something was chasing him, something that cast a shadow over the whole corridor, and he ran faster, taking turns blindly. Rowan wasn't talking anymore, or at least Wyn wasn't listening, but it didn't matter. Leth... Rowan had mentioned them before, hadn't he? Wyn wasn't sure. It must have been a long time ago, because the whole conversation was fuzzy.

A door to Wyn's right slid open on its own, and Wyn skidded to a halt, his mind going quiet as he stared at the door, through which he could hear the phantom voice that had been haunting him. Rowan would probably tell him to keep his distance, but it seemed like Rowan had retreated for now. He was…

He was probably mad at Wyn for freaking out like that. (And really, who wouldn’t be? How pathetic that just a _name_ could set him off.)

The voice grew louder, a rumble that almost sounded like real words, and Wyn forgot all about Rowan and Leth and the rest of it. He stepped through the door, hand lingering on the door frame as he looked around the room. No, the _hangar_.

The space was cavernous, shadows clinging to the high corners of the ceiling, Wyn's footsteps echoing back to him off the smooth, blank walls. But Wyn hardly spared a thought for the room. His eyes stuck on the machine at the center of it all--the Blue Lion, he was sure of it. What else could it be? No other ships Wyn had ever seen looked like this. None of them felt alive like this.

_Right. You weren't there before._

Rowan's return startled Wyn, and he blinked, tearing his attention away from the lion to listen to his brother.

_When Lance found us. We were..._

_We’d been captured,_ Wyn supplied. _I know that much._

_Yeah. Well, Lance broke us out, but he stayed back to fight Haggar so she wouldn’t come after us. The Blue Lion brought us to the castle. I think it was on autopilot or something._

Wyn opened his mouth to protest calling Blue an it, but he stopped, confused by the force of his reaction. She was just a ship, after all. Why shouldn't Rowan call her it? But it felt wrong in a way Wyn couldn't explain. Being here with Blue felt safe.... It felt _right_... He thought the not-voice he'd been hearing had something to do with her, but maybe that was just wishful thinking.

Still... the hangar was quiet and cozy, and Wyn figured there weren't a lot of places that were safer than in the same room as a Voltron Lion, so he tiptoed further inside and sat down with his back against her front paw, glancing around just in case someone had spotted him coming in here. They were alone, though, so Wyn settled in, pulling out the tablet Coran had given him and launching his favorite game.

_I'm sorry._

Wyn paused the game, frowning at his feet. _Sorry?_

_For before. I know you don't like to talk about that kind of stuff. I just... I think it's something we should talk about, sooner or later._

Wyn sank down against Blue's paw, taking strength from her presence at his back. _I know... I'll try. Not tonight, but I'll try._

 _That's fine,_ Rowan said hastily, holding up his hands. _Later is fine. You can take as much time as you need._

Did he really mean that, though? Wyn couldn't help wondering if Rowan was just saying that to make him feel better. But he really didn't want to talk about it, so he settled in with his game and tried not to think too hard about the conversation that was coming.


	4. Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set around chapter 2-3 of Shadows of Stars.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter are mild but include: conflict between alters, unplanned switching, unreality and existential dread

Home.

The word left a sour taste in Rowan's mouth, but he did his best not to let it leak over into Wyn. It wasn't his fault that he only remembered the good things about New Altea, while Rowan remembered a lot more of the bad--and was far more aware than Wyn of just how much he _didn't_ remember.

Leth was quiet for once, perhaps because nothing about this place was familiar to them. Not the stores where Wyn's parents had taken him shopping a million times, not the park where he and Jana used to play, not the floral scents in the air or the glint of the planetary rings overhead. When they'd first touched down, it had just been Wyn and Rowan, and Rowan had gladly pulled back once Wyn caught sight of Jana. She'd protect him. She always protected him. There were very few people Rowan trusted enough to take care of Wyn without Rowan hovering over his shoulder, but Jana was the one he trusted the most.

Unfortunately, the others weren't so content to sit back and let Wyn have this.

_It's not our fault he only lets himself remember the good stuff,_ Eran said, joining Rowan as Jana led Wyn to a terrace path that wound up to the rooftops in a quiet shopping district. The path provided a nice view of the city, including several private gardens, and would take them closer to the neighborhood where they'd both grown up.

Rowan shot Eran a warning look as Wyn's steps dragged. He was slow to respond to Jana's last question (something about the time they'd gone to the street fair together), which was how Rowan knew he'd noticed Eran's arrival, even if he didn't notice _Eran_. Having the others around always made Wyn a little hazy, but Rowan still had to be careful not to draw Wyn's attention. He could, in theory, make sure that only Eran saw or heard him, but it was difficult, and Wyn always got upset when he noticed Rowan talking to someone else.

Eran's grin said he knew this, and he didn't care. _I mean, we have memories, too. What if Talm wants to have some of that flavored ice he used to get all the time? I'm not gonna be the one to tell him no just because you want to spoil your brother some more._

Rowan sped up, trying to leave Eran behind. He didn't want to have this conversation today. He didn't want to be _here_ today, or at all, preferably. But Eran had always been the most confrontational of Rowan's headmates, and he'd been growing bolder ever since the battle at Earth, when Leth had forced his way to the front again.

_This was my home too, you know,_ Eran went on, dogging Rowan's steps.

_Eran,_ Rowan muttered, praying Wyn was distracted enough by the soryen fish in the lake they were passing over not to notice a few hushed words directed away from him. _Can't we do this later?_

The look Eran gave him was steeped in bitterness. He seemed almost disappointed in Rowan, like he'd expected Rowan to take his side on this. Well, why should he? Rowan and Eran were the oldest; they were supposed to look out for the rest of them, even if that meant ignoring what they wanted. It wasn't like Rowan was taking control so he could tell Jana to take them somewhere else, somewhere that didn't hurt so much.

Besides, Talm hardly ever came out anymore. He'd stopped entirely after they left New Altea, but he'd been pulling back more and more before that, even. He didn't like dealing with the outside, so what did it matter? If he really wanted flavored ice, he could have it on the ship. Rowan was sure he'd seen a dispenser in the mess last time he made his rounds.

Still, the not-quite argument prickled underneath Rowan's skin--he and Eran used to get along quite well, helping each other take care of the little ones, but lately? Lately it felt like all they did was argue. Feeling sick to his stomach, Rowan stuck closer to Wyn for the next few blocks. It meant Wyn gave him some funny looks, but he was too caught up in the homecoming to worry about Rowan's odd behavior for long.

It was actually kind of nice, considering. There was a slight breeze, the scent of fresh rolumma tarts from a stand down below, and Jana's laughter to chase old demons away. However much Rowan loathed being back here, he had to admit it wasn't _all_ bad.

He should have known it couldn't last.

He didn't remember until too late where the bridge set down. (He knew a lot of things, but remembering the layout of the city he'd never planned to visit again hadn't been high on his list of priorities.) It was only once he felt the faint visceral shift that accompanied a switch that he realized.

Klyggorian's Sweet-Snap Emporium: one of Wyrda's favorite places to go on family outings.

She slipped into the body like she'd never left it, lifting up on her toes with a gasp of delight. "Klyggorian's!" she cried, spinning around and latching onto Jana's arm. "Can we go? _Please?_ "

Rowan cursed under his breath as Jana laughed easily and changed course for the sweet shop. He really should have seen this coming. Aside from Wyn, Wyrda was the only other one of them who had any real, positive associations with home. She didn't front often, but when she got excited, not even Rowan could resist the switch. He just hopped this time it hadn't been too jarring for Wyn. Wherever he'd ended up. He didn't usually stick around when Wyrda was out.

He didn't usually stick around long when anyone was out, aside from Rowan.

The stress headache Rowan had been battling for the last few weeks clicked a few notches higher as he nudged Wyrda to get her attention.

_Rowan!_   she squealed--thankfully not out loud. She'd had some trouble with filters when she first showed up, and it had been so long since she'd been out that Rowan wouldn't have been surprised if she'd forgotten about little details like secrecy.

_Hey,_ he said, trying to cover up his unease with a smile. _Been a long time, hasn't it?_

She nodded, and that _was_ out loud (so to speak.) Thankfully, Jana wasn't looking. _It's boring without you, Ro. Why are you gone so much?_

_I came to check in on you two days ago._

_For five minutes!_

She started to lift her hand to show five fingers, and Rowan quickly pushed forward to stop the gesture. _Wyrda. We can't let people see, remember?_

She pouted, but Jana pushing open Klyggorian's door distracted her and she raced ahead, a brilliant grin splitting her face. Wyn's face. (It was funny. There had been a time when Wyn and Wyrda had seemed so similar--similar enough that even Rowan couldn't reliably tell them apart from how they acted, only by the way they felt. Now, though? Wyn's smiles were more tenuous than Wyrda's, like he didn't quite believe he had a reason to smile.)

Rowan hung back as Wyrda rushed to the counter and pressed her nose against it, scanning the treats on display for something that looked good. Rowan left her to it. She looked a little old to be so excited about sweets, but Jana would probably pass it off, considering how much she knew about what had happened to them in the past decaphoeb or so.

And he _really_ didn't want to fight with another one of his headmates today.

He pulled back, letting Wyrda have her fun. Convincing her to go back inside was an exercise in futility; better to just let her wear herself out and then do some damage control.

Rowan drifted along as Jana bought Wyrda a few pieces of candy and they continued on their way, trying to ignore the nagging thought of whether Eran might have sent her out on purpose just to spite Wyn. He wouldn't, though, would he? He wasn't... Okay, so he was irritable and frustrated, especially lately, but he wasn't _cruel_.

It occurred to him that Eran probably thought keeping Wyrda and Talm cooped up was the cruel thing, but that was an uncomfortable thing to think about, so Rowan pushed it aside and waited for signs that Wyrda was losing focus.

* * *

In the end, Wyrda only lasted about an hour. She started zoning out as they headed for Jana's house--not the same place she'd lived growing up, and therefore not anywhere Wyrda cared about--and then quietly disappeared. She must have shoved Wyn out as she left, because he reappeared at the same moment, even groggier than Wyrda had been.

Rowan sighed, but took the wheel, at least until Wyn got his bearings again. Could only be a few seconds, could be hours. There was no way to know, and someone needed to at least try to look normal in the mean time.

So apparently that came down to Rowan, since no one else was up to the task. _He_ was barely up to it, frankly. He wasn't as queasy as he'd been before, but carrying on a conversation was still beyond him, and he could only ignore so many of Jana's questions about dinner and plans for tomorrow and whether Wyn wanted to stay with her tonight before she noticed something was wrong.

"You feeling okay?"

Rowan shrugged, silently deflecting the question to Wyn, who gave a noncommittal response but made no effort to take control. So that was a 'no.'

Jana sighed. "That's okay. I know you've had a rough time of it today, so it's okay if you're tired. We can eat at home, maybe put on a holodrama. See how you're doing in the morning and go from there."

Wyn suddenly stiffened, resisting something in Jana's words so hard it made Rowan stop in the middle of the street.

"Wyn? What is it?"

Rowan tried to pass of control to Wyn, but he shrank back--still too shaken by Wyrda's sudden appearance, probably, and Rowan did his best to force out an approximation of what Wyn was trying to say. "Tired."

"You're tired?" Jana asked, her eyes softening. "Yeah. I get it."

"Can we go home?"

"That's where we're going. Just a few more blocks. You want me to carry you? It's no trouble."

"No," Rowan said, narrowing his focus to Wyn and to forcing the words out. "I mean... Coran. Can we go see Coran?"

It was dangerously close to spilling secrets neither of them wanted to spill--Wyn, at least, had been asking Rowan, not Jana directly--but hopefully Jana would take it the same way. And anyway, Rowan was too busy trying not to let his guilt show on his face.

_Is this about earlier?_

Wyn wouldn't meet his eyes, but he nodded as Jana's smile turned sad. She didn't argue, just turned to lead them in a different direction. Rowan was grateful--she really was a good person. A good friend.

_That was... It was one of the others, wasn't it?_

Rowan's heart skipped a beat, and he stumbled over a curb as his vision went fuzzy from trying to focus on Wyn instead of on the road beneath him. He forced himself to take a breath, then another. This was a big step for Wyn, and Rowan ought to at least try to make it a little smoother.

_Yeah. It was. Her name's Wyrda._

He felt Wyn twisting away from that, like if he didn't name the others then they weren't real.

_Is that why you want to go back to Coran?_

_The others don't come out around him. Do they?_

_Not as much._

Wyn nodded, as though that settled it, and Rowan sighed. Well, acknowledging that the others existed was better than nothing, and if being around Coran made it easier for him, then who was Rowan to stop him?

* * *

They didn't completely avoid Jana for the rest of their stay, but they did stick closer to Coran and to the paladins. Wyn recovered some of his usual cheer quickly, and Rowan tried to count that as a victory. It was hard, though, when Wyn woke up the next day refusing to hear anything about his other headmates--refusing, for a moment, to listen to Rowan. It left Rowan feeling not-quite-real, and he spent most of the morning in the ship with Wyrda, avoiding Wyn and Eran in equal measure.

Baby steps, he told himself.

Everything would work out in the end.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone wants to learn more about Dissociative Identity Disorder, [DID Research](http://did-research.org/) has a lot of great articles to get you started.


End file.
